


Bakery Shortcomings

by dasakuryo



Series: What the Future Has In Store [3]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 14:55:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5932381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dasakuryo/pseuds/dasakuryo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iris takes advantage of an uneventful, non hectic weekend to indulge the twins. Baking for a family of speedsters can be tough, particularly when the one that's supposed to help has a proclivity of eating the ingredients she has to use. Barry learns the hard way he can no longer get away with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bakery Shortcomings

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published for @kkaegeum at Tumblr :)

“Can you pass me the flour, Barry?” Iris said, casually, over her shoulder. She did take the precaution of lifting the bowl, steaming with melted chocolate, off the pot. She did not want to end up with burns from the bau marie, just because Barry was helping her out in the culinary endeavors the twins put her up to. Well, them, Barry and that meta-human metabolism of theirs. Was she even making enough brownies anyway?

Her train of thought was cut short by a whoosh, accompanied with its characteristic gush of wind. And there was Barry, lips curled up in a tiny smile and hands around a blue plastic bowl already withholding the requested ingredient.

She let out a low cough instead of smiling back, looking down on him, accusatory raised finger pointing in his direction.

“No running inside the house applies to you too, y'know?” her voice took on a frustrated tone.

Barry’s smile faltered a bit, and he lowered his gaze for a second. Iris knew he’d be scraping the nape of his neck, hadn’t he been holding the object with his hands. He always did so when she got “mad” at him, as he fumbled for words… not that she was interested in hearing an apology, half the time she reprimand him just to tease him and see that wide-eyed expression on his face.

Barry’s apprehension washed away from his face upon hearing her amused giggle. Iris laughed again, louder this time, when Barry’s frown broke into a sheepish, tiny and embarrassed smile.

“That’s not fair,” he argued; his voice low. It reminded her of Dawn, whenever the little girl felt crossed.

Iris shrugged before taking the bowl from his grasp and eyed it, frowning suspiciously.

“This is from the jar at the top left, right?” she asked, spoon swiveling inches over the white powder, hesitating.

She saw his grin drop, suddenly her hair was on her face, and the next second the blue bowl in her hands had been replaced with a red plastic one. There was a tinnier, somewhat shy, smile on Barry’s face.

“Here. Sorry, my bad.” Barry blurted out.

Iris palm on his chest pushed him away. “Go away, mister, you’re gonna ruin brownies again,”

Far from being offended, he nodded and backed off. The next second he was standing opposite her, across the aisle. The soft drumming of his fingers tapping on the marble counter made her look up from the batter she was mixing.

“What?” she asked, confused.

Wrinkles materialized on his forehead.

“If you’re bored you can always get the baking pans and foil them with parchment paper, y'know? It’s on the second drawer.”

And so did their weekends go, as long as Iris had no work to catch up to or story to publish, and there was no meta-human or supervillain on the loose or a major league mission at hand. An uneventful Saturday usually involved Iris indulging the twins with their favourite treats, while Barry, dressed in sweatpants and bare-footed, sauntered around the kitchen reading over recipes, measuring and handing ingredients -besides munching at any edible good on display on the counter, which were actually meant to be in the bakery food, whenever Iris wasn’t looking. Naturally, the fact that she couldn’t see him doing so did not mean she did not realise that, all of a sudden, sometimes she’d fallen short of something.

She chopped the almonds and set them aside. She frowned, pinching the bridge of her nose before letting out a sigh. Again—

She had definitely filled that cup with walnuts, and now there was merely a handful left.

“Barry, did you eat the walnuts?” she asked, turning.

She met Barry, agape, the paper clip he was pressing open with his fingers slid away from his grasp flying in a curve, coming to a halt after skidding on the greyish tiles. Iris was sure that he must have turned red at some point, caught with his hands on the cookie jar, and regained his composure with that superhuman speed of his too quickly for her to take notice of it.

“No?” he answered, his voice went up an octave and he actually tilted, tilted!, his head before shooting her a smile.

The bastard… well, she could certainly have her fair end of fun at his expense too.

“I can go buy some,” he prompted, matter-of-factly, “I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

“Those were grandma Elisa’s walnuts,” Iris said with an affected tone but laughing inside when she saw the way Barry’s face contorted with something that resembled horror, dread.

“Oh,” he managed to utter.

It was Iris’ turn to shoot him a grin. The same grandma Elisa that had made her grandson, his friends and even the twins take a second, third serving at every meal because they all were too thin. Oh yes, grandma Elisa’s walnuts, the ones Cisco’s lovely and cheerful grandmother had given them upon their departure back home, much to Cisco’s reluctance.

“Abuela, venden nueces en los Estados Unidos,” an exasperated Cisco had pointed out as his grandmother took two plastic bags full and handed them over. She’d shushed him with a flourish of her hand and a _m'hijo_ , arguing that there could never be as good as the ones _her_ walnut tree gave.

The lovely grandma Elisa that’d made that long holiday so unforgettable—

In Colombia.

He was, essentially, screwed.

“Well, it’s a relief that you’re the fastest man alive after all,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

“You sure you don’t want me to get some from the grocery store? It’d be quicker, the chocolate is getting cold again,” he was quickly to point out.

“Why? I have faith in you, Barry, I am sure you’re capable of making that run in no time,”

“But Iris— it’s far! It’s like— at the end of the world!”

“Don’t be melodramatic. Antartica is far,” she noted, giving another chop to the almond chunks that’d end up too large, “and the Earth is round, so technically it has no end,”

“But—” he even had the nerve to be pouting at her, pouting!

“I’m sorry; it wasn’t _me_ who ate the walnuts!”

“Yes, dear,” Barry’s shoulders dropped, as he nodded in defeat. Iris trembled slightly, as she held back a giggle. She’d better celebrate those small victories at outsmarting him. Oh, and speaking of little victories—

“Barry, sweetheart?” she called him, singing, adding more chocolate to the bau marie pot, “would you be so kind of getting some coffee too? I mean, since you’re dropping by—”

* * *

He made an unidentifiable sound at that, something between a grunt and a whimper of distress. Somehow, he managed to shoot a smile in her direction, which only widened hers, before whooshing out of the room.

“See? I knew you could do it, Bar,” Iris chirped.

Barry mumbled something she did not get, possibly because he’d spoken against the sofa cushion. As soon as he’d arrived and left the walnuts on the counter for them to be chopped, he’d then collapsed on the sofa in question, flopping down like dead weight with a loud thud. Suit still on.

“What was that, Bar?” she knew that laughter would imply she was mocking him, but she couldn’t fight it down.

Barry turned his head sideways, “I need sugar, or a nap, or perhaps _both_ , I am not really sure,” he blurted out.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Tired,” was his eloquent response.

Iris pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, on the portion of exposed skin uncovered by the suit mask. Barry hummed. Iris took of his boots and lifted his legs to rest on the fluffy cushions.

“You wait here, mister. The first batch’s going to finish cooling off soon.”

She saw him nod at her words, but his eyes were already halfway closed and his whole body lax. She doubted he’d really listened to them.

* * *

Barry West-Allen awoke jolting, when something fell on him. Or rather, _someone_. In his drowsy state he managed to make out Don’s and his smile.

“Daddy!! Daddy!! Mommy may brownies!!!” Dawn stormed inside the living room, screaming the news excitedly in her extensive 2-year-old vocabulary.

Barry nearly tripped over his own steps more than once, as the twins dragged him to the kitchen. Their tiny fingers clutching at one of Barry’s hands each.

“Okay, calm down, there are enough for everyone!”


End file.
